ROME—CARDINAL DE BERNIS—ROMAN SOCIETY—ROMAN MORALS—ANECDOTES OF CARDINAL
DE BERNIS, M. DE CHOISEUL, THE DUC DE CRILLON, AND OTHERS.
DURING the first two years after our departure from England, I attended
so little to political occurrences that they found no place in my
journal; yet it was an eventful period, for although war with France had
not commenced, the assistance given by the French to the Americans, then
in arms against our Government, rendered it inevitable. While we were at
Marseilles the news arrived of Lord Cornwallis being made prisoner; and
while at Toulon great preparations were making for the war with England,
which was then imminent, and which soon afterwards broke out. There,
however, _we_ heard no illiberal remarks against England.
At the time of year when we arrived in Rome that city was full of
strangers. Amongst others, there were the Prince of Saxe-Gotha, Mr.,
Mrs., and Miss J. Pitt, Mr. and Mrs. Swinbourne, Sir Thomas Gascoyne,
Sir Francis and Miss Holbourn, Mr. Henderson, Lord Lewisham, Justice
Welsh and his daughter, Lord Duncannon, Comte Dillon, Comte Edouard
Dillon, and Mr. T. Dillon, Chevalier Jerningham, Mr. and Mrs. O’Reilly,
Sir Robert and Lady Smith, Lady Euphemia Stewart, Lady Margaret Gordon,
Mr. Stuart Mackenzie and Lady Betty, Mrs. Gibbs and Miss Stevens, Sir
William Molesworth, Mr. Rooke, Mr. Perry, the Rev. Mr. Sherlocke, Mr.
and Mrs. Petty, Mr. and Mrs. Craddock Hartopp, Mrs. Chantrey, Mr. and
Mrs. Gore, Miss and Miss Emily Gore, Sir Carnaby and Mrs. Haggerstone,
the Bishop of Derry, Mrs. and Miss Louisa Hervey, Mr. Curzon, Mr. Slade,
Sir Edward Hales and son, the Abbé Preston, &c. &c.
We had letters to several persons, and more particularly to Cardinal de
Bernis,[21] the French ambassador, who at that time had his amiable
niece, the Marquise du Puy-Montbrun, and her married daughter of
sixteen, the Vicomtesse de Bernis, with her husband and his brother, the
Abbé de Bernis, staying in his house. From his rank, influence, and
fortune, the Cardinal de Bernis made the most splendid figure at Rome.
He was then about sixty-two years of age, and still more celebrated for
his writings and the elegance of his manners than for having been prime
minister of France. He inhabited the Palazzo de Carolis, a very
considerable building, opposite the church of San Marcello, on the
Corso. We were invited there to a conversazione, which began at
half-past seven, or one hour of the night, according to the Italian
dial. At this period of the year twenty-four o’clock is at about
half-past six; it is never earlier than five or later than eight, but it
is regulated by the sunset. The “conversazioni di prima sera” were
without cards, while those of “seconda sera,” at which cards were
played, began at two hours of night, and the company were all assembled
by three; that is, about half-past nine. After passing through the hall
of the Palazzo de Carolis, filled with servants in livery, and the first
ante-room, filled with attendants of a higher order, we found the
cardinal in one of the first rooms, which was called the “Stanza dei
Boccetti,” on account of a sort of billiard-table at which he used to
play, where the balls are thrown by the hand (similar tables were in all
the great houses in Rome). We passed on through a suite of fine rooms,
and in the farthest, which is a noble gallery, with columns of “giallo
antico,” we found the Marquise du Puy-Montbrun, some ladies, and many
gentlemen. Ices, lemonades, &c., were served, but no cards. A few nights
afterwards we were introduced by the marchioness to the Princess Santa
Croce at her conversazione, which was one of those “di seconda sera,”
where some people played, but more looked on.
The Palazzo Santa Croce was full of fine pictures, and the company
numerous, though, owing to the size of most of the fine houses at Rome,
there was never any crowding at an assembly; for the Roman nobility, the
corps diplomatique, and strangers who were well recommended, could alone
be admitted to the conversazioni; and at the most forty ladies were to
be seen there, the nobility not being numerous, and as the old ladies
did not go, and no unmarried ones, unless engaged or on the point of
becoming nuns, the men were in much greater strength; for, besides the
heads of families, the younger brothers, cardinals, prelates, officers,
&c., amounted to a considerable number. People began to come about nine,
and went away about half-past eleven.[22]
When a lady went to a conversazione, her servants called out “Torcie!”
and two servants of the house would come down, each with a torch, to
light her up the stairs. Sometimes at very great assemblies, or at a
fête, the court and the whole staircase were as light as day with
torches placed everywhere. At such times they were not called for. Great
order was observed to prevent all confusion of carriages, which drove in
at one gate and out at another, generally through a colonnade, or at
least a covered portico. When any particular occasion rendered it
necessary, from fear of a crowd, soldiers were stationed to regulate the
approach to the house, and to keep the coachmen in order. The master or
mistress of the house always remained near the door, and the groom of
the chambers announced the visitor, who had been before announced to him
through the different rooms by the footmen, valets, &c., according to
their several degrees. Everybody was full-dressed, and this formality of
entrance saved people from trouble, who otherwise would not know whither
to go, or where to find the person to whom they were going.
Great propriety of manner, with much wit and cheerfulness, characterised
the Roman society. The ladies sat still till they engaged in cards, and
the men stood round and chatted with them, or sat down beside them if
there was a vacant chair. The system of regularity prevailed to such an
extent at Rome, that the ladies usually went to the same part of the
room, and almost to the same chair, so that it was very easy for their
acquaintance to find them. The Romans, more than any people I have ever
known, followed the maxim of never interfering with the habits and
customs, the pleasures, or even the prejudices of others. “Live and let
live” was their practice no less than their principle, and this had a
happy influence in staying the progress of scandal, which was certainly
less prevalent at Rome than in most places.
I cannot deny that the custom of having “cavalieri serventi” was pretty
general. Some ladies went alone, some with their husbands, and some with
their brothers-in-law; but these were comparatively few. Yet I firmly
believe that many of those intimacies, which are so much criticised in
other countries, were perfectly innocent, and it was very usual to go
into company attended by two, sometimes by three, gentlemen. Very
respectable young women did this, and it was certainly the safest way.
These made her party at cards; and when she left the assembly she wished
them “good night,” and went home with her husband. Light characters were
thought ill of at Rome, as they are everywhere, though they were not so
much pulled to pieces. Women never went together to parties unless for
the purpose of a presentation or a masquerade: if a lady was invited to
a dinner party, her husband also was asked.
But what I particularly admired in the society there was, that character
was so justly estimated. The Romans had wonderful tact and penetration
in discovering and appreciating the merit of their fellow-citizens, and
also of strangers whom they had an opportunity of knowing, either
personally, or from their works or actions. They weighed everything, and
their judgment was very correct.
The theatres were open only during Carnival, that is to say, between
Christmas and Easter. No women were allowed to appear upon the stage.
All conversazioni, except those of old ladies or of cardinals, were
suspended during Carnival, unless on a Friday, when there was no opera.
For the first four nights it was the custom that everybody should go
dressed, and even those who had boxes of their own liked, on these
occasions, to go to the ambassadors’ boxes, where they were more in
sight, and certainly had the best view. The Governor of Rome had the
middle box on the second tier, which was counted the best, and the
ambassadors of France and Spain were on each side of him, the other
ambassadors following. These and the governor were alone permitted to
have lights in their boxes, and for the first four nights the latter
used to send ices and biscuits round to all the boxes of the three lower
tiers—there were, in all, six tiers—beginning with the corps
diplomatique.
We frequently accompanied Madame du Puy-Montbrun, and the society in our
box usually consisted of the old Prince of Palestrine, the Abbé de
Bernis, and the Chevalier du Theil, “un savant très caustique,” whom the
Court of France had sent to examine certain manuscripts in the Vatican,
and who lived at Cardinal de Bernis’. We had also occasional visitors
from the corps diplomatique. Madame du Puy-Montbrun was correct and
serious, handsome, sensible, and only thirty-six. I was _very_ young and
_very_ animated, but vainly would any of the gay prelates or young
travellers have endeavoured to effect a comfortable entrée. Madame du P.
was reserved, and the old prince and the chevalier were immovable, and
the only prelate who was not old but very agreeable, was Monsignor la
Somaglia, belonging to a noble family of Parma. He was a man of elegant
learning and manners, but by the gay was accused of too much devotion.
I shall here insert a few anecdotes and bons mots which I collected
during our lengthened residence in Rome.
M. de Choiseul, when he was ambassador of France at Rome, used to say
there were only two ways of managing the Italians, “danaro o
bastone.”[23] One day he addressed the Pope (Lambertini), at an
audience, in such an authoritative tone, that his holiness rose from his
chair, and said, “Mi faccia la finezza di mettersi quà, signor
ambasciadore.”[24] This same Pope once asked a lady how she liked Rome,
and whether she had seen all the ceremonies, &c. She answered that she
had seen everything except a “sedia vacante;”[25] whereupon the Pope got
up directly from his chair, and said, “There is one, madam.”
A cardinal, in conversation with a prelate whose whole study was how to
obtain promotion, happened to remark that he himself had very good
health. “Ah,” said the other, “how do you manage that? For my part, I am
always ailing.” “Why,” replied the cardinal, “the reason is, that I wear
my hat on my head, but you have it in your heart.”
The Abbé G., who is said to be the son of a shoemaker, was one day
complaining that he could not go to the Constable Colonna’s because his
carriage was not ready; a bystander remarked, that he was not surprised,
for, as the Abbé’s father was dead, his shoes might probably want
mending, and that consequently he could not walk. A very elegant Grand
Vicaire once asked a physician from what stock this Abbé G. was derived.
The physician took him into a shoemaker’s shop, and striking his hand on
the block—in French called “souche”—upon which they cut the leather, he
answered, “Voici, monsieur, la souche dont sort la famille de l’abbé.”
The French farmers-general adopted many ingenious contrivances for
advancing their fortunes. A certain chancellor of France having lost a
dog of which he was very fond, one of these individuals procured another
very like it, and dressing himself up in a wig and gown like that worn
by the chancellor, he accustomed the animal to take sweetmeats from his
hand, but to fly at every one else. Having sufficiently trained him, he
carried him to the chancellor, and declared that he had found the dog
that was lost. The chancellor was delighted, and an acquaintance was
thus formed which largely contributed to the advancement of the
dog-trainer. Another of this worthy’s schemes was to serve mass to
Cardinal de Fleury, and instead of the usual wine to give him Madeira or
Malaga.
The Cardinal de Bernis remarked to M. le Duc de Crillon that his head
was filled with poetry, and that he remembered all the agreeable poets
he had read forty years ago as if it were yesterday. “Your eminence has
only to remember yourself,” said the duke. “That is the very one I would
choose to forget,” replied the cardinal. The Spanish ambassador once
asked this same duke of what country he was; for, said he, “you are a
lieutenant-general in the service of Spain, a lieutenant-general in the
service of France, and an Avignonese duke.” “Sir,” answered M. de
Crillon, “I am everywhere a subject of the Pope; I am a Frenchman at
Madrid, and a Spaniard at Paris.”
The Marchesa Lepri received company four days after her husband’s death.
The Abbé de Bernis went, among others, and found her in bed, suffering
from a cold, with her hair full dressed, and nothing over it, and
reposing on the pillow. The bed was in the middle of the room, and
without curtains. The ambassadress of Bologna was one of the guests, and
many gentlemen were there.
M. Amelot, they say, was advised by his friends to retire, and ask for a
dukedom. He did so, and received for answer: “Ce n’est pas la saison
pour faire du camelot (Duc Amelot).”
The Duc de Crillon, of whom I have already made mention, asked of the
Bishop of Mirepoix a benefice for his brother. The bishop refused,
saying, “Sir, I repent of having given him the last one, for he was not
a Grand Vicaire, as you pretended that he was; and,” added he, “vous
êtes un imposteur, et le Pape le sait.” The duke, angry at being called
an impostor, replied, “Monseigneur, vous êtes un sot, et Dieu le sait.”
Cardinal de Bernis once observed that he wondered how any person could
fear death, for, said he, “ce n’est rien de fort difficile, car je vois
que chacun s’en tire.”
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